No Longer Just A Saying
by avelasco10
Summary: On October 31st, 1981, when he told her to run, she knew it was over, and all she could do was think of him.


Lily's first thought was _Voldemort_. Her second was, _Why does this have to happen on Halloween?_

Lily and the Marauders loved Halloween. For the past three years since they left Hogwarts, they all spent it together, playing pranks on their friends in the Order, or shooting charms and hexes at random people in the Leaky Cauldron, making the entire pub break out in laughter. It was the perfect holiday for mischief making, and they were _definitely_ up to no good.

But this year, Dumbledore had told them that they had to stay at home. Their house was charmed to look abandoned to any Muggle, so they got no trick-or-treaters from the neighborhood, no fairies or princesses or kings or superheroes. There were no squeaky voices calling "Trick or treat!", no ringing of their doorbell—there weren't even decorations on their house.

The rest of their friends had been sent away last minute on a mission for the order. There had been a Death Eater attack in a Muggle neighborhood on a Muggle family whose son was a fourteen-year-old wizard that went to Hogwarts. That's the only information Lily and James were given. That's about the only amount of information they were ever given these days.

As James yelled, "Run, Lily! I'll hold him off!" she knew that it was over. She knew that James was gone, and she suddenly couldn't remember the last time she said I love you, or gave him a kiss, or made love to him, or told him he was brilliant, and then she was grabbing Harry and running down the hall, and there was just no time to remember.

She thought of Halloween in that one minute where she ran for her life in the limited space of her house. Her house, now. Not hers and James'. He was gone. She thought of first year, when Sirius had shoved James into Lily at the Gryffindor table at the Halloween feast, causing Lily's pumpkin juice to spill all over her robes. She thought of how she had yelled at them, and how their feud had started at eleven years old, and how only Peter looked scared of her, how James and Sirius were trying to cover up their laughter, how Remus looked at her apologetically, and how her friends didn't even _try_ to hide their laughter.

Lily ran up the stairs to Harry's room. She thought of second year, and how the bats that hovered in the enchanted ceiling seemed to be louder than usual, and how James Potter was whispering excitedly to Edward Locke, a fifth-year in Gryffindor, and was pointing to the ceiling. Lily remembered suspecting James of convincing Edward to charm the bats in the Great Hall, and telling Professor McGonagall after the Halloween feast. She remembered James coming up to her the next day and saying, "Aw, Evans, why'd you have to rat me out like that?" She told him to get to class.

She slammed the door of Harry's bedroom and locked it manually—where the bloody hell was her wand?—and placed Harry safely in his crib. Lily remembered third year, when James had finally decided that Lily Evans was quite pretty and had quite beautiful eyes, and when she had decided that James Potter was a bullying toerag, and that he needed to get over himself. That year, on Halloween, which was a Saturday, she went to Hogsmeade with Alice Prewett and Marlene Price, and she had immediately fallen in love with butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks, and she had hated the way James, Sirius, Peter, and even Remus were whispering heatedly about something across the room, surrounding a small table on three rickety legs. She especially hated the way James had recited an incredibly disappointing and embarrassing poem to her in the middle of Zonko's Joke Shop, making her blush as red as her hair and resulting in her interrupting him with a "For Merlin's sake, Potter, shut it!"

Lily heard those two terrible words come out of Voldemort's mouth downstairs, and heard her husband's body thump against the ground. She let out a sob as she pushed Harry's changing table towards the door, making a pathetic barricade against her attacker. On Halloween in fourth year, when she was studying with Snape in the library, her quill suddenly shouted "Happy Halloween, Evans!" and spurted ink all over her crisp and neat Transfiguration essay. She had turned around to find Peter and Sirius snickering at their table in the corner, Remus sitting next to them, still reading his text book and taking notes. Madame Pince had come over and asked, "Miss Evans, may I ask why your quill has decided to interrupt the studies of the entire library?" Just then, James Potter rounded a bookshelf and smiled charmingly. "Oh, but Madame Pince, that was all my fault! Don't blame dear Lily over here, she was only doing her essay—oh, bugger, would you look at that, there's a whole load of ink on it now…" Snape had discreetly vanished his pants, making James blush and the entire library to laugh out loud.

Voldemort's footsteps were right outside the door now, and Lily pushed one last chair towards the pile of furniture that served as a barrier between her and the darkest wizard of all time. She thought of fifth year at Hogwarts, and her complete annoyance when she had walked into the Great Hall to find all the pumpkins floating in the air to be lined up and reading, "Evans, what do you think about Hogsmeade this weekend?" That was the first of many different sessions of "How Many Times Can I Ask Out Lily Evans Until She Curses Me Into Oblivion?" That first time, she turned James' hair bright green and charmed the meat on his plate to flop around like a dead fish.

Voldemort blasted the door and Lily's barricade apart with an incredibly simple spell—one of the first she had learned in fourth year. She remembered in sixth year, when nothing really happened on Halloween—a recent attack on the wizarding world by Death Eaters left everyone in a dull mood. The Marauders held their first (and only) Halloween party in the Gryffindor common room, which really only consisted of many empty bottles of firewhiskey and butterbeer, many scattered packages of assorted candies, a monotonous voice on the radio filling the various silences in the room, and a load of dull faces and dimmed eyes and bitter emotions. Lily had lost her oldest friend only four months before. James' parents had died only two months before. Marlene's closest Muggle cousin had joined the military and gotten killed. Alice's brothers and boyfriend were planning to go off into a possibly more dangerous war between dark and light, wizards and witches, purebloods and Muggleborns. Sirius's brother had yelled at him earlier that day about betraying their family. Remus was recovering from a full moon two nights ago that had been his worst one yet, resulting in a cut just under his collarbone, courtesy of himself. Peter was getting over a girl named Juliet, who was in Hufflepuff and had turned him down. Lily had walked up to James and told him, "I'm sorry that people like your parents had to die, and I'm sorry that I've always been such an arse. And I'm sorry that your party is so incredibly lame that I feel the need to go to bed now." And she did just that, before any of the Marauders could recover from Lily Evans' first kind act towards James Potter.

Voldemort walked into the room, his eyes more red than Lily would have ever imagined, his smile more bone-chilling than any she'd ever seen. And then she thought of seventh year. She thought of how James had made love to her for the first time on his bed in his Head Boy room, cozy and warm compared to the heavy fall of rain they could see outside his window. She thought of how gentle he had been, and how he had said "I love you" over and over again, like it was a prayer that could save both of their damaged souls and relieve them of any sins and worries they had hanging over their heads. She remembered falling asleep in his arms, missing the Halloween feast, and waking up to a laughing Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Remus, Peter, and Alice in James' room, and she remembered covering herself from head to toe under James' comforter, wishing she could avoid all the embarrassment and discomfort.

Lily turned to Harry. She grabbed his tiny shoulder in one hand, more gently than she'd ever done anything, and his pudgy little hand in her larger, more scarred one. She said, "I love you." She repeated it over and over, just like James always had to her. She whispered into his black hair—so much like James'—"Harry, Mama loves you. Dada loves you. Harry, be safe. Be strong." She looked into his green eyes, and she could tell that he was going to live, and that he was going to be the greatest wizard anyone could imagine, and that he would have bullies and supporters and that teachers would give him loads of work, and he would have to scrub the dungeon floors of Hogwarts in detention, just like she had. She prayed that he would live with Sirius now, and that the Marauders would raise him properly, like she knew they could, and that he would love his parents without ever really knowing them.

And as Lily turned to face Voldemort, she thought of everything, all at once. The Muggle saying of her life passing before her eyes wasn't just a saying anymore—it was reality. She remembered getting her Hogwarts letter, which she still had in a wooden box at the back of her sock drawer, along with other important papers and pictures and items. She remembered being bullied persistently by her sister, and meeting Severus Snape, the strange dark boy with the oversized clothes who lived just down the road from her. Lily remembered Platform 9 ¾ and the Hogwarts Express and meeting James and Sirius on the train, immediately disliking them. She remembered being sorted, and making friends in Gryffindor, and being incredibly interested in all of her classes. She remembered, as time went on, that people would never stop calling her Mudblood, and that she would have to deal with it. She remembered being constantly asked out by James Potter, and getting her mum's letter about Petunia's engagement to a man Lily had never even heard about, much less met, and Petunia's "rather unfortunate scheduling" to have the wedding in the middle of May, while Lily was still at school.

She remembered finding out about Remus' condition, and her first kiss under a mistletoe on Christmas Eve with Richard Peaks, who was a year older than her and made more than half the girl population at Hogwarts swoon. She remembered getting her prefect's badge in the mail, and then later her Head Girl badge. She remembered being friends with James Potter, and then finding out that she fancied him, and later admitting to herself that she was in love with the stupid tosser. She remembered their first kiss, which was incredibly romantic, on the snow-covered Quidditch pitch in the middle of the night on their first day back from winter break in sixth year. She remembered James proposing to her on the last day at Hogwarts. She remembered their wedding, with Sirius as the best man, and all of their friends that were in the wedding. She remembered Alice and Frank Longbottom's wedding, Mary and Reg Cattermole, Marlene and Adam McKinnon.

She remembered moving into with a cramped flat with the Marauders, sharing a room with James. She remembered receiving the news from Dumbledore that her parents had died during a random Death Eater attack in Muggle London.

She remembered finding out that she was pregnant, and thinking of what her baby's name should be, and what he would look like, and who he would grow up to be. She thought of the future, far ahead, unaware that two months into her pregnancy, she and James would have to be moved to a safehouse in Godric's Hollow, away from their friends and whatever was left of their family. She remembered going to St. Mungo's to have Harry, and squeezing James' hand, and saying to him through gritted teeth, "You're damn lucky the sex is good, James Potter, you hear me?" She remembered everyone in the room laughing, especially Sirius, who was standing behind her head, holding her other hand. She remembered seeing Harry for the first time, and sobbing because she could already tell that he would look so much like James, and sobbing even harder when he opened his eyes to reveal bright green ones, just like hers. She remembered James sputtering and blurting out, "You're not ginger!" before also bursting into shameful, blissfully, disbelievingly happy tears.

Lily remembered Harry's first words, his first steps, his first ride on the child-sized broomstick Sirius had bought him for Christmas one year. She remembered the way he would smile and clap his hands whenever she or James made colorful sparks or puffs of smoke with their wands. She remembered how he loved bananas but hated peaches, and how he could spend hours staring at the owl mobile above his crib that Peter had made him.

And suddenly, Lily could remember the last time she kissed James. It was earlier that night, about twenty minutes before Voldemort came to their house. She had announced that she was making homemade chocolate chip cookies, her mother's recipe, and James kissing her soundly on the mouth and saying, "You're wonderful." The last time she had said "I love you" was probably about thirty minutes before Voldemort came. He had accidentally blown a puff of smoke out of his want right into his face, making him cough and making Harry erupt in laughter. Lily had looked him in the eyes, chuckling, and said "I will never stop loving you, James." He had winked at her and then continued playing with their son. The last time they had made love was two days before Voldemort came. Sirius and Remus were babysitting Harry at their flat, and they had offered because it was their first day off from their Order duties in a while, and they wanted to spend time with Harry. She and James had made the most of that night, and for the last time in her living, breathing life, she heard James whisper "I love you" innumerable times into her hair, her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her shoulder, her stomach, her hands, and all she could do was look at him and love him and say it back and mean it. That was the last time she had called him brilliant, as well.

Lily remembered the scrawny boy with glasses too big for his face. She remembered him gradually becoming taller and more muscular and more handsome and rugged, more charming and seductive, more silly and infuriating. She remembered loving that lanky, incredibly sexy boy with all of her heart, and now he was no longer a schoolboy, but she loved him all the same. She remembered cheering for him at Quidditch matches, and remembered how his hands were clammy and his face was pale when he had bent down on one knee in the middle of the courtyard on a lovely summer say and asked her to marry him, and remembered his nervous face turning to one of relief, surprise, and then pure, unbreakable joy. She remembered him freaking out about being a father, and being surprised at how good he was at it. She remembered the loving moments she watched between James and his son, or James and his friends. She remembered the memories they had all made, still acting like seventeen-year-olds when they were really twenty-one and fighting a war that was too dangerous for them to handle.

Lily only had a minute to remember all of this. Only one. But she remembered it all, because her life had flashed before her eyes, and that Muggle saying was no longer just a saying. And she remembered the way James would say her name and flash her that crooked grin, and the way Harry would smile at her with two teeth in his mouth, his pudgy hands grabbing at her red hair. "Please," she begged, "Not Harry. He's just a boy, just a baby! Take me, please! Not Harry, please!"

But Voldemort wouldn't listen, and she knew it. She spread her arms, doing her best to shield Harry from the one curse that would end his life. She closed her eyes and thought of James, who was gone, and who she would be seeing soon. The thought of the way his lips felt on hers, better than firewhiskey, and how he would whisper his "I love you"s over and over.

And then she was gone.

Lily didn't know that her son would live. She didn't know that it had been one of her and James' closest friends that had betrayed their trust and ratted them out to Voldemort. She didn't know that there would be a statue made of her, James, and Harry in the cemetery of Godric's Hollow. She didn't know that Sirius would go to Azkaban, Peter would go into hiding, and Remus would be alone. She didn't know that Professor McGonagall would cry when she found out, or that Dumbledore would sink in his office chair at Hogwarts, or that Severus would come visit her dead body before anyone else knew about it. She didn't know that her son would see her and James in the Mirror of Erised, and his heart would break all over again at the fact that he was an orphan. She didn't know that ten years from that day, her son and his best friend would save a little girl named Hermione Granger, also an incredibly bright Muggleborn, from a fully grown troll. She didn't know that her son would defeat the same wizard that killed her and James and had left a lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. She didn't know that Harry would one day find out he had a godfather, and that his godfather would die only two years later. She didn't know that Harry would fall in love with his best friend's sister and marry her, or that he would name his children after some of the best people he knew, including Lily and James. She didn't know that Remus would fall in love with someone and allow himself to be loved, or that Peter would fall into the manipulative hands of her killer, or that Snape would constantly risk his life to save her son. She didn't know that Harry would constantly be told that he looked just like his father, but had his mother's eyes.

When Lily would watch Harry, she would remember him as a baby, pink-faced and clumsy and fat. When he walked toward his death, she would think of her own, and she would be with him, always. When she and James met Sirius and Dumbledore and Remus on the other side, she would cry and hug them and thank them.

Lily would pray for her son by whispering "I love you" over and over again. And every time his life was at risk, his life would flash before her eyes, because that was no longer just a saying anymore. It was reality.


End file.
